


Gravity

by hanschen_ril0w



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, gratuitous celestial metaphors, hernst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:57:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanschen_ril0w/pseuds/hanschen_ril0w
Summary: Hanschen is tethered to Ernst’s gravity like the moon is to the earth.And he can’t help but love it.





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> So here’s some Hernst I wrote... it’s not very long but it was a bitch to write. Hope you like it!

The world has never felt quite so three-dimensional.

  
Moonlight streams in through the window, its silver tendrils lighting the floating dust in the air between the pane and the bedside. A million stars seem to twinkle in this space alone. Just slightly lower down, a set of thick flannel sheets carry the atmosphere in their fibers, and the whole world, breathing lightly in the shimmering darkness, rests gently underneath.

  
Hanschen reaches out to run his fingertips through the stars of dust. He can almost feel the moonlight— it’s soft and cold and fleeting, leaning into his touch — but it slips out of his grasp as he drops his hand to search a little more.

  
He is only grounded once he finds his whole world.

  
Ernst lazily cracks an eye open. “Mm?”

  
He hadn’t quite been sleeping, but a whisper of drowsiness catches in his voice that Hanschen longs to steal away and keep in all its gentle beauty.

  
His hand is cupping Ernst’s cheek; his thumb finds the corner of his lips and rests there.

  
“You look so peaceful.”

  
“Do I?” Ernst smiles softly. He blinks at Hanschen, his brown doe eyes shining in the light from the window.

  
Hanschen’s lips betray him— he’s smiling back, silly and lopsided. “You’re relaxed.”

  
“I like how your bed feels.”

  
“You’re happy.”

  
“I like being with you.”

  
Hanschen traces a finger along Ernst’s jaw, memorizing the way it feels when he smiles.

  
“You’re here.”

  
Ernst sighs.

  
“I like this.”

  
It isn’t hard to figure out what he’s referring to. He’s gazing at Hanschen with his eyes full of starlight, blushing against the latter’s cold fingertips on his skin, and he seems to lean just slightly closer as he speaks, his voice brimming with something peculiar and frightening and beautiful that makes Hanschen’s chest feel heavy and light all at once.

  
But he likes this, too— he likes Ernst draped in his bedsheets. He likes Ernst’s face in his hands. He likes Ernst’s voice, his smile, the way he looks all sweet and foolishly teenaged in the night’s brightness.

  
Hanschen doesn’t answer. Instead, he closes his eyes, leaning in to press his lips to Ernst’s. And this gesture is enough; a slender hand slides up to Hanschen’s chest and a little piece of shimmering moonlight slips into his heart. Soon enough Ernst is parting his lips, inviting Hanschen to go further, and he can feel nothing but Ernst’s gravity and Ernst’s body and Ernst’s kisses.

  
He’s sighing as if he’s forgotten how to breathe.

  
Maybe he has.

  
Ernst touches the tender spot at the back of his neck, holding him there, and Hanschen rewards him with a gentle bite to his bottom lip.

  
It’s soft and slow and fragile and loving and _so good_ until the stimulation is too much.

  
They each feel the other begin to smile and the two break apart in a gentle flutter of sweet, love-drunk laughter, still touching as if they are one and the same.

  
“I’m sorry.” Ernst’s eyes have slipped shut, but his lips are still stretched in a sated grin. He’s blushing. It almost makes Hanschen blush, too.

  
Hanschen watches him for a moment, eyes still dark with hazy pleasure. “You’re excellent at that.”

  
“Hmm?”

  
To clarify, he pecks Ernst on the lips again. “ _That_.”

  
“Oh.” Ernst’s blush deepens before he laughs, clumsy and angelic. “Only sometimes, it seems.”

  
“Shh.”

  
Ernst just shakes his head, leaning back into the pillow and tracing circles on Hanschen’s stomach.

  
The world feels so three-dimensional, it’s beginning to seem overwhelming. 

In truth, Hanschen still isn’t quite used to this. He hasn’t fully adjusted to not being _alone_ , to happiness, to the unmasked vulnerability of sharing himself with another person in this way. And in times like these, it’s surreal. Someone wants him. Someone is touching him. Someone is really beside him.

In times like these, he realizes how wholly satisfying Ernst is.

  
He’s suddenly hyper aware that he’s moving closer to Ernst, maneuvering himself so that they‘re touching as much as they can. Lacing their fingers together. Leaning against his shoulder. Something within him fights to understand how his earth turned before this. And he hates this part of himself, of course, this part that readily surrenders to involuntary weakness, but he is tethered to Ernst’s gravity like the moon is to the Earth— the same irresistible _something_ that sparked his fascination with Ernst so long ago has flourished into something stronger and sweeter and infinitely scarier.

  
He tilts his head, biting and smoothing a soft mark into the base of Ernst’s neck.

  
He can’t get enough.

  
He can’t touch enough of him, he can’t listen to enough of him, he can’t _have_ enough of him. And it’s the most terrifying thing, this limitless yearning, because he has no way of predicting when _Ernst_ will have had enough of _him_.

  
Ernst’s whisper cuts through the silence. “It’s so light out.”

  
Hanschen looks up to face him. His sweet, thoughtful Ernst.

  
Ernst watches him, scanning Hanschen’s face in the pale light with vague wonder in his eyes. “I see you.”

  
_His living, loving world, who has him trapped so helplessly in his gravity._

  
“And I you.”

  
Ernst lets out a soft sigh. “I can’t even begin to guess what I ever did to deserve your affections.”

  
_His sensitive, selfless sun, who makes him feel so alive in his presence._

  
Hanschen tightens his arms around Ernst, trailing kisses along his shoulders and chest.

  
Ernst continues. “I think I’ve never been happier.”

  
_His beautiful, brilliant star, who lights his life so perfectly in the darkness._

  
And he continues. “It feels wrong, sometimes, though. When they… when _they_ never lived to know this, it’s as if I should be saving some of this feeling for them. But I always fill with happiness so fully, I can hardly process it enough to capture it.”

  
_His infinite, inimitable everything, who has his heart so unfalteringly in his grasp._

  
And he continues. “Still. It isn’t possible to tie it all up in a ribbon and take it to leave by their graves.” Hanschen feels Ernst’s chest rise and fall with a shuttering breath. “I would if I could. It’s so beautiful, to feel so…”

  
_His world. His sun. His star. His everything._

  
His Ernst.

  
Hanschen breathes softly against his skin. “I love you.”

  
His Ernst.

  
_I love you._

  
Hanschen freezes.

  
And there is silence.

  
Just silence.

  
“Hanschen?”

  
He is brimming with something peculiar and frightening and beautiful that makes his chest feel heavy and light and wrong and right all at once.

  
He is silent.

  
“Hanschen, will you look at me?”

  
Hesitantly, he obeys, his eyes dilated and tremulously fearful.

  
“Are you afraid?” Ernst touches his hand to Hanschen’s chest, just over his heart.

  
“Ernst—“

  
“Are you?”

  
Hanschen feels as though he has flown out of orbit, flying through the cosmos with no ground to hold onto and no world to turn to.

  
There’s a painfully long pause before he responds. “I have never wanted. Not like this. I’ve never wanted someone so… close to me.”

  
Ernst frowns. “You’re far from inexperienced—“

  
“No. Not like that.” There is no gravity. Hanschen reaches for words, searching aimlessly among unfamiliar stars. “I’ve never wanted to know anyone so intimately as I want to know you— to spend time with you, to learn everything about you…”

  
Ernst watches him, his hand still over Hanschen’s heart as he waits for him to continue.

  
And he does. “I’ve never wanted anyone to… to know me. I’ve never wanted anyone to understand me.”

  
The moonlight is soft and cold and fleeting.

  
It is painfully intangible.

  
“I’ve never wanted anyone to _see_ me.”

  
And there is silence.

  
Just silence.

  
“To see you?”

  
And, just as quickly as he had begun, Hanschen squeezes his eyes and his heart shut again. “Forget that I ever—“

  
Ernst’s hand moves up, and he presses one finger to Hanschen’s lips. “You’ve truly never wanted to be seen? The Hanschen _I_ know?” He looks thoughtful, focused. “The Hanschen who knocks at my window to come in and watch me draw in the afternoons? The Hanschen who keeps kittens just to help them grow up? The Hanschen who sneaks sugar cubes to school to give to me at lunchtime?”

  
_His world. His sun. His star. His everything._

  
His Ernst.

  
“I know. This will never be easy. But…” Ernst sounds mortifyingly earnest.

  
_His moon. His dusk. His light. His everything._

  
His Hanschen.

  
“I see you.”

  
In response to this, Hanschen opens his eyes again, searching Ernst’s as if attempting to detect dishonesty or deceit.

  
When he finds none, only dread is left.

  
“Oh, God.”

  
Oddly enough, Ernst smiles at this. “I love you, Hanschen.” He takes Hanschen’s hand and strokes circles against his palm, and he leans in, his voice just below a whisper. “Can we be afraid together?”

  
Hanschen doesn’t realize how close they are until Ernst’s lips are on his own.

  
Hanschen doesn’t realize how lost he was until he feels himself being pulled from the sky on a gentle wind back to Earth. He anchors himself, bracing a hand on Ernst’s back and pulling him so close that Ernst’s body is one with his own and Ernst’s heart is beating in time with his own and Ernst’s love is flooding every inch of him so fully that he thinks he might burst.

  
The world has never felt quite so three-dimensional.

  
His world has never felt quite so right.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m a slut for comments and kudos and all, and you can also find me on tumblr @hanschen-ril0w <3


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